


His Ghost, My Lover

by levram



Category: BioShock, BioShock Infinite
Genre: Eventual Character Death, Eventual Smut, Eventual Suicide, M/M, Spoilers If You Haven't Played Bioshock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-12 17:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11166285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levram/pseuds/levram
Summary: Atlas keeps telling Jack he loves him. Jack eventually falls in love back. But the problem is that Atlas is dead, and his ghost is following him everywhere he goes. Jack is suffering alone in Rapture, and has to make the ultimate choice in order to be with the one he loves.





	1. The Sun's Gone Dim

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by luchtschild's art on Tumblr. Please check them out! http://luchtschild.tumblr.com/post/87697257625/basically-i-just-wanted-to-see-jack-seeing-atlas
> 
> I knew this was going to be a multi-chapter fic once I started writing. Hope you all can stick with me through it! This is also un-beta'd. Let me know if you see any errors. Thanks!

_I see_

_And hear Atlas_

_Everywhere_

 

**RAPTURE, POINT PROMETHEUS, 1960**

 

The girls are safe. Atlas is dead. Jack has the key to the city.

 

There was static on the radio, and then Tenenbaum’s voice was heard. “Are the little ones alright?” She asked.

 

“They’re fine,” Jack replied, guiding the girls to the bathysphere. “Please take them with you to the surface.”

 

There’s silence for a while, before the woman spoke again. “Are you not coming with them?”

 

_Stay with me._

 

“I can’t. I need to stay here. Something else is keeping me here and I can’t leave. Please take them. Give them the life they deserve.”

 

After Tenenbaum retrieved the girls, Jack was alone. He stood in Fontaine’s empty office, bodies of dead splicers all around him and their blood staining his tan sweater. He gripped his wrench tightly, his body shaking. He stared straight ahead as the blurry black and white vision of the man he knew stood before him. 

 

“Leave me alone…” He whispered to the ghost.

 

_You know I can’t._

 

“You’re not real!” He snapped, his voice echoing.

 

_Real enough, darling._

 

It was the ADAM. That damn liquid that can produce new stem cells and manipulate functions of the body. This happened many times before since Jack saved that first little sister. He gained the memories of deceased people of Rapture who ingested ADAM as well. These memories appeared as ghostly figures, only showing up where they died and going on with their business. None of these ghostly figures interacted with Jack. None of them even looked his way.

 

But Atlas. Atlas was different. Atlas spoke to him. Atlas followed him around. Atlas was _always_ there.

 

“How much of your ADAM did I drink?” Jack wondered, not sure if he was asking Atlas or himself.

 

_Just enough._

_Just enough for me to be with you._

 

And now, Jack realized he didn’t kill Atlas at all. Atlas lived; and he’s living through Jack.

 

 

 


	2. Dead Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every day he kept telling himself it was all in his head. Atlas’ ghost wasn’t really there. It was just hallucinations. Atlas was dead and Jack killed him. But at times, it felt so real. At times, Atlas wasn’t just a blurry black and white figure. He was whole. He was there. And Jack wondered if he ever reached out and touched the man, he would finally feel him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I hope things are making sense. Basically Jack is suffering. He doesn't know what the fuck is real anymore and he goes to vent to his best friend Sander Cohen. 
> 
> Thanks for the support! This is unbeta'd as usual, lemme know if you spot any errors. Dedicated to Jack, the one who is helping me keep this fandom alive :D

**I. RAPTURE, FONTAINE’S APARTMENT, 1961**

 

It’s been exactly one year since Jack had killed Atlas. The man had taken up his home in Fontaine’s apartment in Olympus Heights. The apartment itself was grand; and at first, it was a mess. Papers and books were scattered everywhere, along with empty bullet casings from when Fontaine was “killed” by Ryan’s men years before. After cleaning up, it looked normal, like the Rapture Civil War never happened, like Fontaine never died. Jack found himself wishing that Atlas never died.

 

_Why here, darling?_

 

There was that voice again. Jack was sitting at a desk, drinking when he heard Atlas speaking to him. The ghostly figure of the deceased man was sitting by him, staring straight at him, waiting for an answer. “Because this was your apartment,” Jack simply answered, looking into the empty eyes of the figure, scared to blink in case Atlas might disappear at that very moment.

 

Ever since Atlas died, Jack almost always found himself in the company of the man’s ghost. He figured it was just him going crazy from the isolation, the loneliness and his extreme intake of ADAM. Every day he kept telling himself it was all in his head. Atlas’ ghost wasn’t really there. It was just hallucinations. Atlas was dead and Jack killed him. But at times, it felt so real. At times, Atlas wasn’t just a blurry black and white figure. He was whole. He was there. And Jack wondered if he ever reached out and touched the man, he would finally feel him.

 

But how and why did Jack, in the span of one year, long so heavily for Atlas? Is it even possible to fall in love with a dead man? With a ghost? There were times where Jack found Atlas, or rather his ghost, in bed with him. Just laying there, staring when he woke up, as if he had been staring all night. At first, it was a bit discomforting; but then as it continued to happen, Jack started to get used to it. In a way, it helped with his loneliness. Isolated in a large city in the bottom of the ocean with only spliced up monsters to talk to can be terrifying, and dangerous. Sure, he can talk to Sander Cohen, when the man wasn’t busy using dead splicers for his art, or even the Big Daddies who continued to roam around if they trusted Jack enough. But Atlas.

 

Atlas was the first person Jack spoke to when he entered Rapture. Atlas was a voice who helped him, a voice he trusted. And while Atlas died by Jack’s hands, it didn’t seem like the former held a grudge at all. Sometimes when Jack roamed the empty parts of Rapture, Atlas was there right next to him, telling him about all the things he wish he could do.

 

_I wanna touch you. I wanna hold your hand. I wanna hold you close to me whenever you feel lonely. You’ve been feeling lonely lately, haven’t you?_

 

For a while, Jack wondered where all of this affection came from. From the time when Atlas was actually alive and talking to Jack through the radio, not once did any of them mention any romantic feelings towards each other. Jack was too busy trying to survive and Atlas? Well, Atlas was too busy trying to manipulate the other man. Jack concluded Atlas just had a change of heart now that he was dead. He wondered if were that easy. 

 

**II. FORT FROLIC, 1961**

 

“You’re in love, little moth.”

 

Sander Cohen’s voice startled Jack as the younger man was sitting in one of the audience seats, a drink in his hand and he stared at the stage. Poor Fitzpatrick’s decaying body was still by the piano debris. “Do you know how I can tell?” Cohen hummed, sitting by Jack, a teasing smirk on his face.

 

Jack had learned to be comfortable around Sander Cohen, the deranged artist of Fort Frolic. Cohen often asked Jack to bring him dead splicers for his “masterpieces”, in exchange that the man never laid a finger on him. The artist was also one of the less insane residents of Rapture who could form coherent sentences. In a way, Cohen became an acquaintance and it gave Jack some comfort. There were times where Atlas wouldn’t show, and in those times, Jack grew incredibly lonesome. The two never really saw eye to eye, but Jack was grateful to have a living soul to talk to besides Atlas’ dead one.

 

Cohen started to explain exactly why he thought Jack was in love. “Your mind is scattered. You’re usually so composed, like a musician playing a song. Now you’re like a deer caught in headlights, startled and scared, unable to move forward. Unable to accept the truth. Who’s the lucky soul?”

 

“Dead,” Jack immediately answered. “He’s dead and he won’t leave me alone. He’s always talking to me. He’s always watching. Teasing. Taunting. Asking to hold my hand when he knows we can’t feel each other.” He wasn’t quite sure why he was telling Cohen all of this, knowing the man wouldn’t care one bit, but he couldn’t stop, especially when the tears started to fall. “Why did he let me kill him? If he loved me so much, why did he betray me?”

 

Jack threw the bottle he was holding across the room, hearing the faint shatter. “I don’t even know what’s real anymore. I don’t know if Atlas is really here, or if it’s just my projection of him. I don’t know even know if he really loves me. I don’t know anything. _I’ve never known anything!_ I was made in a lab. I was manipulated by Andrew Ryan, by Atlas…”

 

“But you love him?” Cohen hummed, staring up at Jack. “After all that Atlas fellow has done to you?”

 

“It’s not him…”

 

“Isn’t it?”

 

“It’s not!” Jack snapped, reaching up and pulled at his hair. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “He’s dead. He’s been dead for a year, and I was the one who killed him. The figure that I’ve been seeing is just a projection. It’s the ADAM. But I’m not crazy, I know he’s dead!”

 

“Then tell me why you’re so broken up over this?” Cohen wondered, the man’s voice oddly calm. Though, Jack could’ve sworn he heard a hint of amusement in his tone. “For a year you’ve been going about your business in Rapture like everyone else. You were interacting with the visions of your so called loved one as if it were normal. You were talking to no one. No one else can see _your Atlas._ Does it pain you to know that he's really dead? Does it pain you to have his ghost follow you around like a dog? Trailing you everywhere you go? Whispering sweet nothings into your ear at night before you sleep? He teases you, surely. But maybe because he longs for you too. He wants to touch his beautiful little angel! But knowing he can't, he's urging you to join him, to be with him..."

 

"And how exactly am I supposed to be with a dead man?" Jack asked, frowning deeply. He knew he shouldn't have came to Cohen if he wanted any sort of advice on love, as if the man himself was such a Cupid. 

 

"Easy. Become a dead man yourself, little moth... And you and your Atlas will finally be together, just how you always wanted." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll be making these chapters longer. It wasn't even supposed to be multi-chapter in the first place but I'm liking it :D


	3. Forever, This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being in Rapture during these hard times was certainly lonely, especially when the city was just full of splicers and decaying dead bodies. When the only thing to keep you company was a ghost of a dead man you killed with your own hands, Jack was getting desperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is basically just porn, yay. But if you want to skip that, just scroll down to the end to continue on with the main plot. I'm very sorry this took so long, I've been busy and unmotivated to write. This is unbeta'd so let me know if you spot any inconsistencies and as always, thank you for reading!

**III. I SAY I WANT YOU INSIDE ME AND**

**YOU HOLD MY HEAD UNDERWATER**

 

Being in Rapture during these hard times was certainly lonely, especially when the city was just full of splicers and decaying dead bodies. When the only thing to keep you company was a ghost of a dead man you killed with your own hands, Jack was getting desperate.

 

Jack laid in Fontaine’s bed, the scent of the man who once lived here was still faintly present, despite it being years after he actually slept in it. He turned his head towards the pillow, sighing to himself as he breathed in. He wanted Atlas. He wanted to hold him. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to touch Atlas, and he wanted Atlas to touch him.

 

“I fell in love with a dead man…” Jack muttered to himself. He turned onto his side, his hand trailing down to his pants. He opened his eyes, seeing the ghostly figure of Atlas laying next to him as always. It never surprised him anymore to see him pop up suddenly. In fact, it was a bit relieving.

 

“This is embarrassing…” Jack muttered, blushing a bit as he stared at Atlas. His hand was hovering over the slight bulge in his pants, and he contemplated on what to do. “I can’t believe I’m actually about to masturbate while a ghost stares at me. Pervert.”

 

Atlas smirked, still staring at Jack. _Do you dream about this?_ _About me?_ The ghostly figure asked. _Tell me about it._

 

Jack could decline. He could just get up and leave. But he didn’t want to. He was lonely and wanted Atlas **badly.** So he decided to tell him exactly what he dreamed of every night.

 

_It always start with the two of them in Fontaine’s apartment, on his bed, the very place where he had these dreams. Atlas hovered over him, the man staring with a confident smirk that he always had._

 

_“Ya sure ya wanna do this, darlin’?” Atlas asked, leaning down and kissed his chin. Jack always dreamed about his first time, and that damn fake Irishman was always a tease._

 

_“Yes, I want this,” Jack replied, a small pout on his face. “I want you. I always want you.”_

 

_“That’s all I wanna hear…”_

 

_Atlas kept kissing Jack, the two making out for a while before Atlas started trailing down the other man’s body. Atlas lifted Jack’s shirt, planting light kisses on his chest and stomach, making Jack squirm a bit._

 

_“Ticklish, are we?” Atlas teased, grinning up at Jack. He continued downward, undoing Jack’s pants and pulled them off, along with his underwear. “And already hard…”_

 

_“Shut up, you ass,” Jack groaned, covering his blushing face with his arm._

 

_“M’teasin’...”_

 

_“Always teasing.”_

 

_“You love it. And me,” Atlas hummed and he took Jack’s cock into his hand, slowly stroking up and down. He listened carefully to the soft breathing and moans of the other man, thinking how cute he was for trying to restrain from making any loud noises. Atlas wanted to him to make as many loud noises as he could._

 

_“Y’r gonna scream f’r me, darlin’,” Atlas promised, stroking Jack a few more times before taking his cock in his mouth, lightly sucking at the tip. Jack suddenly gasped, back arching a bit and he reached down, gripping Atlas’ hair._

 

_Atlas continued to tease, licking and sucking at the tip before taking Jack down as much as he could. Jack cried out in response, immediately covering his mouth and Atlas reached up, pulling his hand away. He lifted his head, breathing deeply. “Gonna scream f’r me,” he repeated. He got up, reaching over to his nightstand and took out a small bottle of lubricant. He poured some on his fingers, pressing two digits against Jack’s hole._

 

_“A-Atlas,” Jack gasped, trying to move away._

 

_“Ya trust me, darlin’?” Atlas asked, keeping his fingers still as he waited for Jack to answer._

 

_“Yes,” Jack whispered, staring at the older man. Atlas felt his heart jump, realizing how much Jack trusted him, how much Jack loved him enough to want to do this. He wanted to keep Jack and have him all to himself. He slowly pushed his fingers into the man, watching for his reaction. When Jack nodded, Atlas moved his fingers, stretching the other man as much as he could._

 

_“Please…” Jack muttered after a few minutes of teasing. He was already panting, staring down at Atlas._

 

_Atlas smirked, moving his fingers bit more. “Please what, dear? Please stop? Please pull y’r fingers out?” As he said that, he slowly pulled his fingers out, eliciting a whine of protest from Jack._

 

_“Please fuck me,” Jack groaned, reaching down and he grabbed Atlas’ wrist, trying to keep his fingers inside him. “Your fingers. Your cock. Anything. I want you now.”_

 

_“I got ya beggin’ already ‘nd I only had my fingers in ya, and y’r cock in my mouth,” Atlas laughed, mentally patting himself on the back. He removed his fingers, undoing his own pants only enough to take out his cock. He was already hard just from teasing Jack and used the lubricant to slick himself up. He chuckled when he heard Jack curse softly, knowing it had something to do with his size. “Next time, I’ll let ya taste me, if ya want.”_

 

Of course Jack wanted to. He always wanted to but since it was only a dream, it never got to that point. He always ended up feeling slightly disappointed whenever he woke up, knowing he’d never get to really have Atlas this way _._

 

_“Flip over,” Atlas then said and he guided Jack. He helped him move onto his knees, his head on the pillow and his ass in the air. Atlas took a deep breath, staring. He reached over, palming Jack’s ass and gently massaged his thighs. The other man squirmed a bit, and Atlas lightly slapped him on one cheek. “Stay still,” he grunted._

 

_Atlas hummed to himself, staring at Jack’s ass and he suddenly had an idea. He spread the younger man’s cheeks apart, leaning down and stuck his tongue out, licking at Jack’s tight hole. Jack immediately cried out in surprise, turning his head to glare at Atlas._

 

_“That’s dirty!” Jack growled._

 

_“Sorry,” Atlas hummed, though he wasn’t really sorry. “Y’r really irresistible. Couldn’t help myself. I just wanted a taste.”_

 

_“You’re so weird,” Jack sighed and rested his head back against the pillow._

 

_Atlas laughed and licked at Jack’s hole one more time before sitting back up. He took his own cock in his hand and stroked, making sure he was lubricated enough before positioning at Jack’s hole. “Gonna fuck ya now,” he told the younger man. Jack nodded and spread his knees a bit wider._

 

_Atlas slowly pushed into Jack, groaning softly as he felt resistance. “Fuckin’ tight ass,” he huffed, bottoming out. He didn’t give any moments for Jack to rest, barely pulling out before suddenly slamming back all the way in. And every single moment, Jack let out an involuntary gasp or grunt, gripping the bedsheets tightly._

 

 _Jack’s own cock was hard and leaking precum on the bed, making an absolute mess of the sheets. It was his first time, and he was worried that he wouldn’t like it, but holy shit, did he_ **_love_ ** _it. He learned that he loved having his ass rammed hard and fast by someone with a huge cock who knew how to use it._

 

_He also learned exactly how much Atlas loved to talk dirty._

 

_“Fuck, Jackie…” Atlas muttered as he fucked him, his hips moving at a quick pace. He was draped over his back, his lips close to his ear. “Love y’r ass. Y’r tight fuckin’ ass around my huge cock. I can barely fit… Ya love this too, dontcha? I feel ya squeezing me. It’s okay, baby. Ain’t goin’ nowhere. Not until I make a mess in ya ‘nd make ya scream my name.”_

 

_Jack let out a soft whimper, reaching down and he took his own cock in his hand. Masturbating was a familiar feeling, but not the dirty talk and the cock in his ass. It made him feel like he was on fire. It didn’t help that he was naked from the hips down, while Atlas was still fully dressed and his pants the only thing undone. He was already so close, and cursed himself for being unable to last long. He wanted this to last as long as possible._

 

_“Y’r hole is so fuckin’ sweet,” Atlas groaning into Jack’s ear, hands gripping his hips. “So sweet and so wet. Y’r gonna make me come. Ya want that, darlin’? Ya want my cum in y’r tight ass?”_

 

_Jack whimpered again, nodding. “Please come in me,” he begged softly, turning his head towards Atlas, leaning over to kiss him. It was barely a kiss, and more like a brush of their lips and tongues. “I want it, I want you. I want you t’make a mess… Please…”_

 

_Atlas suddenly pulled out, eliciting a whine of protest from Jack. He flipped the younger man onto his back, planting his hands under his knees and spread his legs. “I wanna see ya when ya come,” he muttered, entering him again. Jack let out a long moan at the new position, slapping Atlas’ hands away and replacing it with his own so he was holding himself open._

 

_“Oh fuck yes, Jackie,” Atlas grunted as he watched and he planted his own hands on either side of Jack’s head, staring down at him. He continued to move his hips, thrusting as hard as he could at this point; and Jack knew he would feel it later, if there ever was a later. Jack was grinding and rolling his hips down, trying to get Atlas as deep as he could. He felt his hole gape open whenever Atlas accidentally slipped out due to their enthusiasm, only to be split open again in seconds._

 

_“Mmm, fuck, m’close. M’fuckin’ close…” Atlas muttered, a thin line of sweat covering his forehead. Jack wished he wasn’t wearing so many clothes. He wanted to see Atlas’ naked. He wanted to touch his chest, feel his muscles, grope that tight ass he knew the man had. In another dream, in another life, he’ll make sure that’ll happen._

 

_Jack lifted his arms, wrapping them around Atlas’ shoulders and pulled the man close. “Come…” he whispered into his ear. He reached down with one hand, stroking himself again. He gasped when Atlas thrusted particularly hard, and soon felt warmth inside him. The man above him let out a groan, biting down on his neck and continued to move._

 

_“A-Atlas!” Jack suddenly cried out, his hand on his cock moving quickly as he came all over himself, copious amounts of semen staining his stomach and chest._

 

_“Oh, darlin’... you’re absolutely beautiful. And I told ya I’d make ya scream m’name,” Atlas whispered, his voice soft. He slowly pulled out of Jack, setting his legs down. He laid next to the younger man and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close._

 

_“Don’t leave…” Jack begged softly, closing his eyes as he buried his face in Atlas’ chest._

 

_“You know I have to.”_

 

_“I don’t want you to.”_

 

**_“Then come with me.”_ **

 

Jack usually woke up after that, with his hand on his spent cock, his stomach covered in cum and his mind swimming with thoughts of Atlas’ last words. Come with him? Where? Atlas was dead. He’s been dead for years.

 

And Jack was currently laying in bed, it was like he had just woken up from one of his dreams. Except he wasn’t dreaming this time. He was really here, laying with the same ghostly figure that he’s been seeing since Atlas died.

 

 _You’re absolutely beautiful, darling._ Atlas muttered as he stared. The ghost reached over, his hand hovering over Jack’s. It didn’t feel like anything. It just felt cold.

 

“No,” Jack immediately said, shaking his head as he got up, cleaning himself up. “Please stop. Stop making me fall for you even harder…”

 

It physically pained Jack to have these deep feelings for Atlas and knowing he’d never be able to touch the man. He’d never get to hold him, to kiss him, to fuck him. Jack will never get to have an actual life with him; and he wondered if they could ever be together in another life, a better life.

 

_There is a way we can be together. Forever, this time._

 

“A way that involves leaving this world…”

 

 _A world without Rapture. A world without lying and murder, and just_ **_us_ ** _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is coming to an end. Sorry if it's so scattered, this is my first huge fic. But I do hope you are loving it, especially with the limited Jatlas. Also, I hope you all know where this is going in the end, but there will be suicide warnings in the next chapter! Thanks for sticking with me and hopefully the next chapter won't take as long :D

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter: @giacumetti :D  
> I'll try to update as much as I can because I'm really excited to write this.


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